Get Away

[Intro: Young Buck & Kidd Kidd]

Kidd Kidd, what up, nigga?

What's good with it, Buck?

I went to 50, I said, "Look, nigga, I'm in these streets for real, man, I gotta get away from this shit, nigga"

You already know he was a street nigga so he feel that

He gon' get a nigga wigged, dog, tell him to get the fuck—

Let's get this money

[Chorus: Young Buck & Kidd Kidd]

Get away, get away, get away now

Get away, get away, get away now

Get away, get away, gotta get away

Get away, get away, get away now

Get away, get away, get away now

Get away, get away, get away now

Get away, get away, gotta get away

Get away, get away, get away now

Get away, get away, get away now

Get away, get away, get away now

Get away, get away, gotta get away

Get away, get away, get away now

Get away, get away, get away now

Get away, get away, get away now

Get away, get away, get away now

Get away, get away, gotta get away

[Verse 1: Young Buck]

Even in the hood we be shooting all day

Got dead souls walking through the project hallways

Seen a dead body laid next door of where I stay

Couldn't do nothing 'bout it, just walked away

My nigga Tray just lost his youngest son

He bought a knife but the other one bought a gun

He got life for the stupid, dumb shit he done

We popping niggas now just for fun

I got bullet holes in my car do'

Nigga ran off but he didn't get far though

Whole clip dumping out the fully auto

Got a good grip, I'ma hit my target

You done let this shit get started

Knowing damn well that I get retarded

Pull up in this bitch, didn't even park

I just hopped out, emptied my cartridge

Caught another case and beat my charges

Gun conviction but I keep it regardless

And my hands itching, a young nigga starvin'

Paint my picture, I guess I'm an artist

I really wanna leave but I feel like I'm missin' somethin'

You could find me posted up, twistin' somethin'

Fucking with the work, nigga gettin' somethin'

I'm hanging out the window, hittin' somethin', I gotta

[Chorus: Young Buck & Kidd Kidd]

Get away, get away, get away now

Get away, get away, get away now

Get away, get away, gotta get away

Get away, get away, get away now

Get away, get away, get away now

Get away, get away, get away now

Get away, get away, gotta get away

Get away, get away, get away now

Get away, get away, get away now

Get away, get away, get away now

Get away, get away, gotta get away

Get away, get away, get away now

Get away, get away, get away now

Get away, get away, get away now

Get away, get away, get away now

Get away, get away, gotta get away

[Verse 2: Kidd Kidd]

It was me, [?], Marlo

No book bag, had a bag full of dope

Gotta move fast, one time, creep slow

No telling what I would've did for the dough

Watching my neck ‘cause they playing cutthroat

Can't go home, they just kicked in the do'

I don't know who it was but I know somebody told, bang!

Hope it ain't nobody I know, shh

Just another nigga out that nine

Never go nowhere without my nine

Really, I'm out my mind

Paranoid, I've been hit six times

And only Lord knows

I need head like [?]

I've sinned, amen

Thought I saw Mike at the crossroads

Tryna drop my past

Never know what the future holds

When you're nothing but a hoodlum

Going up against the soldiers

Street James Brown, man's in my soul

Ten years old, I was in a man's world

Never did what I was told, only done what I was showed

Daddy selling crack so that's what I sold

[Chorus: Young Buck & Kidd Kidd]

Get away, get away, get away now

Get away, get away, get away now

Get away, get away, gotta get away

Get away, get away, get away now

Get away, get away, get away now

Get away, get away, get away now

Get away, get away, gotta get away

Get away, get away, get away now

Get away, get away, get away now

Get away, get away, get away now

Get away, get away, gotta get away

Get away, get away, get away now

Get away, get away, get away now

Get away, get away, get away now

Get away, get away, get away now

Get away, get away, gotta get away

[Outro: Kidd Kidd & Young Buck]

Ya know what I'm saying, my nigga?

Gotta get the fuck - a nigga gotta go to France or something

I know, I know you still got them passports

Hell yeah, ay honestly, my nigga

I probably done ran through fifteen passports, my nigga

Real talk, no bullshit

Nigga, I'm still on my second one, ye heard me?

Don't trip, my nigga, we getting the numbers up

Really though, really though

They know what it is

You gotta come though, Buck, I know you're a convicted felon and all that, ya heard me?

But nigga, let me in

Matter of fact, Canada, let me in that motherfucker

Canada, let me in

When you got that bread, they gon' let you through customs, believe that

Yeah, hell yeah, one thing we do got, we got money

Oh yeah

Yeah, we got money

We got money now

Shout out to 50

50, what up, nigga? Real shit, this shit crazy though

Talking 'bout money

Real niggas getting in the do'

See when real niggas get in the do', you know what they do?

They put they feet in the middle of that bitch so the do' can't close

And then we bring more niggas, the right niggas through

We bring the right niggas with us

The fuck nigga, we leave the fuck nigga on the side of the road

Looking like the God damn, uh

One of them motherfuckers that be like, "Can I catch a ride?"